


“Why has all my underwear disappeared?”

by yesimcastielsgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6447400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesimcastielsgirl/pseuds/yesimcastielsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not own Supernatural or its characters.</p></blockquote>





	“Why has all my underwear disappeared?”

     You were standing in the living room, hands on your (bare) hips, staring down at what had to be four loads of clean laundry waiting to be folded. Thank goodness for Dean insisting that the large front windows be covered with the filmy lemon drapes that let in all the light without giving the street a view inside, or the whole neighborhood would be getting an eyeful of your naked butt as you glowered at the innocent heaps of clothing.

     “Are you talking to yourself, Y/N?” Castiel’s deep voice preceded him into the room. He carried another basket of clothes to be folded with him, this one filled with jeans and two half-grown kittens. “I’ve got Misha and Jen so it can’t be…”  His guileless blue eyes went wide and round at your tank-top-ankle-socks-and-nothing-else ensemble.  “What are you doing?”

     “Why can I never find any of my panties??” You began digging through the mounds of fabric, scented with your favorite detergent, the sweet smell for once failing to improve your mood. “White socks, black socks, enough t-shirts to supply an entire army,” you were tossing the named articles of clothing behind you as you spoke. Cas set the basket down swiftly to race and catch each item before it could hit the floor. “Your shorts, Dean’s shorts, my shorts, my tank tops, Dean’s tank tops, your button-ups, sweats for y’all, sweats for me.” Cas dropped the armful he’d rescued into an armchair and kept going. “Sheets, the blue and yellow comforter” here you gave in to an instant’s weakness and hugged the lush thing, drawing in the scent of newly washed cotton with appreciation before tossing it over your head, sadly not even seeing when it draped down over Cas hilariously. “- bath towels, hand towels, wash clothes, pajama pants, pajama shorts, your boxers, Dean’s boxer-briefs, _Dean’s_ panties for Chrissakes but not a Single Pair of My Panties Even Though I Buy Nice Expensive Ones that I Really Like.” Your irritation pronounced every one of those capitalized letters.

     You whirled around, your now fiery eyes narrowing at one of your partners. “Castiel. You tell me why I don’t have any underwear right this skinny minute, you hear me?” He was gaping at you, trying to listen but here you were, flushed and panting, your pretty face pink, your hair escaping its clip in angry wisps that haloed around your head.. bare ass naked from the waist down. The line of your lovely legs, all that smooth skin, the neatly trimmed downy hair between your thighs.. really how could you expect him to take you seriously when you look like you’d just this minute been riding his face? Oh _that_ was a good plan to divert your anger.

     “Apologies, beloved Y/N.” Castiel crossed smoothly to you, his hands easing down your shoulders in sympathy, warm palms coasting down your upper arms to cup your elbows as he sneakily drew you to him. “You do have such lovely underpants too, all smooth and trim against your ass, silky under my hands.” You had to look up at him when he held you this close, the thunderclouds of your expression diluting as always as your senses filled with all that was Cas. “I don’t know what’s been happening to them, but it’s a pity. Is that why you always wear my boxers? I like that though.” Castiel bent to kiss your cheekbone, trailed his lips over your face to breathe against your mouth while his hands slid around to cup your firm rear and squeeze, making you gasp. “I like it when you wear my clothing. Like it better when we strip it off you.”

    When Dean wandered in from the back yard fifteen minutes later, he found you laid back atop drifts of clean clothes, tank top pushed up over your breasts, your legs splayed wide and Castiel on his knees before you with his face buried in your pussy. You were moaning and twisting in Cas’ hands, fingers pulling at his wildly tousled dark hair and when Cas sank two fingers inside you, the arch of your body and the sharp _Ahhh_ you let out had Dean going instantly hard in his abruptly too tight jeans.

     _Man, hiding all of Y/N’s underwear was the best idea ever._ Dean licked his lips at the sight of his lovers and started stripping out of the sweaty clothes that bore the evidence of his work in the yard. _Wonder if I could get away with ditching all her pants too?_

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or its characters.


End file.
